


every blade of grass bears our mark

by ShakyHades



Series: Atlas [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, It's all Driver's fault, Jedi Lineages, M/M, Master-Padawan bonds, Padmé who is Padmé, certainly i don't, i am getting kind of afraid about how these keep getting longer, i am sorry Qui-Gon, introspective, someone help me, who needs an explanation for Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakyHades/pseuds/ShakyHades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inheritance doesn’t come only from blood relatives. It also comes from families of choice, in gestures and thoughts and quirks, from one generation to the next, creating an almost tangible bond between completely different individuals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every blade of grass bears our mark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratkinzluver33/gifts).



> Title from Bad Blood, by Sleeping At Last.  
> I'm sorry for the delay in this! Just when I say I'll try to post one every month, I fail. Thanks fates, you all rock.  
> To be completely honest, the only reason I'm posting this today is because my birthday was yesterday and it got me in a good enough mood to write again. Haven't felt quite right these last weeks, everything's a little off... But now I think I'm good again.  
> Anyway, this was a fun one to do. Just by the name of the song, it already gives you a sense of generations, or a lineage, but I took weeks to think of it cause I fail at stuff. Still, this is my longest one yet, so I hope you enjoy.  
> The next one, Uneven Odds, will be much more angsty, so I warn you to brace yourselves, already. If you check the song out, you'll know what I mean.  
> And now, a reaction, by my eternal love and enabler, Driverpicksthemooseic:  
> 03:29 - ShakyHades: how the fuck do i tag it  
> 03:29 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: #so many feels  
> 03:29 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: #they'll kill you  
> 03:30 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: #just like they killed driver  
> 03:30 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: i mEAN

Their little lineage begins when Qui-Gon Jinn finally,  _ finally  _ accepts to take Obi-Wan Kenobi as his Padawan.

After the awkwardness and resentment is pushed aside in favor of their growing bond, they manage to find a measure of balance, a happy middle amidst their clashing personalities where they can start building a kinship.

They encounter peace in joint meditations and snarky debates, Obi-Wan’s wit and observing skills shining through his quiet and calm appearance, and both know that Qui-Gon isn’t as ever-suffering as he pretends to be. With effort from both sides, they create a lasting friendship and a fulfilling routine, with Master and Padawan learning together to heal and to grow, to become something  _ else, _ something  _ better. _

Of course, they aren’t perfect. They accumulate a fair share of mistakes, misunderstandings and regrets, most of them due to the incredible stubbornness they share. But when it matters, they stand firm, a unified front, one providing what the other lacks. Few disagree when they are called the most promising Master-Padawan pair, though the Council sometimes wonders  _ what _ exactly they created by encouraging Qui-Gon to take the boy under his wing, and if they should start regretting it in advance.

They know, however, that the only reason Qui-Gon has stopped bothering them so much with insane requests and untimely outbursts is the influence of his intelligent Padawan. The other side of that coin is that, when Qui-Gon  _ does _ come for them, he has far better arguments, forcing the Council to expend more effort in dissuading his ideas, and even admitting he has a point at times. 

They have no doubt that’s a consequence of having already discussed it with Obi-Wan at length. In some occasions, they could even recognize an argument from the Padawan in the Master’s speech, which filled half of them with pride and half with dread. Force knew what could happen if Qui-Gon managed to convince his Padawan to advocate with him.

All in all, they had a good dozen years together, and though Qui-Gon believed Obi-Wan was ready for his Trials, he could never bring himself to say the words. He knew his Padawan thought he still had things to learn, but the Master could see the truth of the situation. Obi-Wan could gain nothing else from him. It was time to set him free.

Then came the Naboo Blockade, the discovery that the Sith still existed, and a strong feeling of something foul preparing itself to appear. In the days following the initial rescue of Queen Amidala from Naboo, things were too hectic to even think of bringing the matter up until it was too late, until they were standing in the Council chamber, Qui-Gon with his hands in Anakin’s shoulders and Obi-Wan standing a little to the side. A flash of desperation made the words come out of his mouth before the idea was even half-formed inside his head, and the shock of betrayal he received from Obi-Wan before his Padawan closed his mind to him almost made him lose his composure.

Two mantras played on his head, one insisting that  _ the boy must be trained _ and the other accusing him mercilessly, saying  _ how could you do it he entrusted his heart to you how could you just push him aside  _ until he was nauseous with himself. Still, he continued. He  _ had _ to convince the Council to let him train Anakin, if no one else would accept him. They were all blinded to his potential, to the impact the could have.

He was so caught up in his task he never noticed Anakin’s tensing underneath the heavy stares, or the discomfort he showed after realizing he would take the kind Jedi’s place.

He never noticed the sad, regretful look Anakin sent to Obi-Wan. And he sure as hell didn’t notice the small, pained smile Obi-Wan responded with.

 

x

 

From then on, everything happened too fast. Though there was hardly time for Qui-Gon to try to apologize to Obi-Wan, to explain that he had already been planning for his Padawan’s Trials, he tried to do it anyway. Obi-Wan’s reaction was expected, and he knew he had no right to be stung by it, after his actions.

To experience his Padawan’s coldness years after breaking his shell was almost like a slow acting poison. Qui-Gon knew he deserved it, so he chose to give Obi-Wan a few days, before finally cleaning his mess.

Qui-Gon never put it into motion. The hours after Senator Palpatine of Naboo was declared Chancellor were a whirlwind of preparations and plans, all to free Naboo. In that situation, Master and Padawan couldn’t afford to ignore each other, though it didn’t stop things from being painfully strained.

Seeing the Sith there, standing firm in the middle of the large doorway had thrown something into place, inside Qui-Gon. Somehow, he knew he would not come out of that situation unscathed. He pressed on nevertheless, his faithful Padawan at his side as the world shrunk until it contained only the three of them in their desperate fight.

The saber to his stomach wasn’t as surprising as it could have been. Qui-Gon knew his strength had been failing him slowly but surely, and that it wouldn’t take long before a blow was too fast for him to deflect or block.

He couldn’t even feel the floor beneath him, only stare within as the layers of what made him unique expanded and escaped from his grasp, not unlike a star turning into a red giant, moving through the steps until its life ended. The rest of the battle was filtered out as he lay there, dazed and almost incoherent, unable to hold on to the strings of life, and wondering why he should even  _ try. _

He only snapped back into reality when he felt Obi-Wan come near, tired but  _ alive, _ his star still shining bright, much bigger than his own. In that moment, he pushed with all his might to find a way through the peaceful darkness slowly embracing him, to be able to express all he didn’t have the  _ time _ to say with words, words that were already being used for something else, something just as important..

And with one last burst of will, he pushed until his finger caressed Obi-Wan’s face for the last time, using the contact to worm himself under his Padawan’s shields until Qui-Gon could broadcast all his regrets and apologies and all of his gratitude wordlessly to the man sitting before him, and then he couldn’t stop the process of his shedding layers anymore.

He could only hope that things ended well, and then he knew no more.

 

x

 

To have so many people standing in that darkened room, lit only by the funeral pyre and torches, almost seemed like an intrusion of some kind, to Obi-Wan. Most of them barely knew Qui-Gon, barely talked with him. He knew they were grateful for the reacquired freedom of their planet, and saddened by the sacrifice that was needed for it to happen, but still, they didn’t  _ know _ Qui-Gon. It felt like too much of an intimate moment to be breached so easily.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin, studied him for a moment. Grief showed clearly on his face and his whole posture, and his usually bright Force presence was muted, held close to his body, mournful. It was almost painful to consider what could have been on his mind. Did he think he would be sent back to Tatooine, since the Council refused to let him be trained? Was he already preparing himself for the blow?

Looking back at the pyre, Obi-Wan made another promise, this time to himself. He wouldn’t let Anakin be sent back to that inhuman environment, even if he had to butt heads with the entire Jedi Council. The boy deserved better than being thrown from place to place like a ragdoll. It was because of their mission and Qui-Gon’s stubbornness that he was taken from his only family, his stability, and thus, it now fell to Obi-Wan the task of ensuring it wasn’t all for nothing.

Now, without the worries of a queen’s safety and without the betrayal and jealousy that had clouded his mind on the Council Chamber, he could see some of the potential Anakin had, the one his Master spoke so much about. Even with Anakin’s presence gathered close to his person, it was still impressively radiant, almost like a slight breeze of warmth that bypassed Obi-Wan’s skin to flow directly into his shields. If that’s how it was when Anakin was sad, what would it be like when he was excited? It would surely pick up speed, and become even warmer, but Obi-Wan doubted, then, that it would be violent, simply strong.

He didn’t doubt it would be difficult, at times, but he would do his best, and even more.

He had promises to fulfill, after all.

 

x

 

To be completely honest, Obi-Wan didn’t even know why he was still surprised every time a mission of theirs went wrong. Maybe he still hoped, somehow, that the next time would be different? A waste of space in his subconscious, really.

A sideway glance confirmed the shit-eating grin he  _ knew _ Anakin had. Like it was fun, to constantly have to improvise. Honestly.

“It  _ is _ fun, Master. You just can’t appreciate it,” Anakin said suddenly, without sparing a second to look at Obi-Wan, who just rolled his eyes. “Don’t need to be looking at you to know your reaction, Master. I could catalogue them in my sleep, or mid-battle, even.”

“Of course you could.”

“Hey, don’t mock me, you’re on the same boat,” he insisted, and Obi-Wan didn’t deign to respond to that.

“If you would focus on the droids instead, maybe we could leave this wretched place today?”

Another grin. “Sure thing, Master.”

 

x

 

Later found then in their cramped, shared quarters aboard the _Resolute,_ bruised and tired after hours of battle and constant adrenaline. Obi-Wan was almost forgoing a shower to be able to rest for a few more minutes, but knew that in the end, he wouldn’t be able to ignore the dirt and sweat on his clothes long enough to fall asleep. Anakin, being Anakin, was throwing his garments wherever he saw fit to do so, careless and content.

His momentary distraction was broken by a soft kiss against his lips, one he reciprocated without thought, only the ease of familiarity. Anakin’s flesh hand rested on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, the other still holding one of his tunics loosely. Anakin smiled against his lips when their kiss ended, and Obi-Wan decided to keep his eyes closed, enjoying the calm he felt.

“You’re so cute when you’re tired, Master,” Anakin said, and even without opening his eyes, Obi-Wan knew he was smiling softly at him.

“Not your Master anymore, Anakin,” he remarked, and could feel the slight movement of Anakin’s hand when he waved it in dismissal.

“Yeah, I’m a Knight, and you’re technically not my Master anymore, but it’s an ingrained habit. I bet that if Qui-Gon had survived, you, too, would have a hard time dropping it.”

“Plausible, but still strange. Tends to attain a strange tone when you call me Master just after kissing me,” Obi-Wan pointed out, opening his eyes a little bit and being rewarded with Anakin’s surprised, carefree laugh.

“True, I suppose. I guess I’ll try to contain it when we’re like this,” Anakin responded, earning a grumble of approval, and leaned down for a quick kiss before stepping back. “I’ll shower first, alright?”

“Sure. Just don’t take long or I might fall asleep.”

Another bark of laughter, just as crystalline as the first. Obi-Wan sits at the edge of the bed, leans against the cold durasteel wall and closes his eyes again. He focuses on his body, the rhythm of his breath and the texture of his clothes, and finds a type of tranquility there, as the last drops of adrenaline finally leave him, as he becomes almost boneless.

Finally able to afford not being entirely focused on the environment, Obi-Wan lets his mind drift, thoughts flowing peacefully in his mind just as the Force flows in his body, harmonious, comforting. A moment of peace amidst a pointless war.

Not even Anakin’s reappearance breaks this calm Obi-Wan found, and he enters the ‘fresher on autopilot, going through the motions of getting clean without sparing a thought to the process. When he becomes aware of the world again, he’s lying on their small, cold bed, with Anakin curled up at his side and one of his hands in Anakin’s curls.

He stares at the frame of the unused bunk bed above them, mind insisting on being active even though his body begs for rest. A quick glance confirms that Anakin is already deep asleep, head pillowed on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

It’s a while until his thoughts settle on a single subject. He ends up thinking about how far they’ve come, him and the man in his arms. From the lost, hesitant Master and the fearful, reluctant Padawan they  _ were _ to the brave Knights and Generals they  _ are.  _

They complement each other, a match even better than Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been. Through every trial, their bond only grew, fueled by stubbornness, determination and the intense desire to prove everyone else wrong. The pair had been met with distrust and a slight amount of ridicule at the beginning, only to become the most promising and prominent Master-Padawan pair of the entire Temple in a handful of years.

And though some would condemn it, they took pride and pleasure in that fact. They never boasted, never rubbed it in the face of others, but it was clear on their postures, their raised heads, their secretive smiles. They deserved the praise, and they knew it.

Then the war came, intent on ripping everything they knew apart. But Obi-Wan and Anakin refused to be separated, even after Anakin’s Knighting, and so, what the Holonet called  _ The Team  _ was born.

That they worked better when together was no secret. Obi-Wan and Anakin were, after all, two parts of a same picture. It was that thought, spoken in jest between resting clones, that sparked the creation of the Open Circle Fleet, with its iconic crest representing the Generals they respected so greatly.

In battle, they were formidable. Were it not a life and death situation, it would be a spectacle, adored by the entire galaxy, watched by allies and foes alike. Their serenity and confidence, results of over ten years of friendship and shared training, made even the most begrudging of souls respect them. The notion that waging war against the Republic itself was better than waging war against Kenobi and Skywalker spread rapidly in Separatist ranks, until it became something akin to an inside joke with a grain of truth

And at the end of the day, when all their battles were won and they could finally lay down to rest for a while, Obi-Wan thought, but almost couldn’t remember a time before Anakin was a part of his life, but he had no problem with that. He liked things the way they were.

 

x

 

Ahsoka was, to them, a breath of fresh air. Obi-Wan and Anakin wished they could all have met under better circumstances, but as always, the war spared no one. Anakin stumbled and chafed at first, unused to having to care for someone instead of being cared for. More than once, he let his immense natural protectiveness get in the way of her training, ever trying to shield her from the worst parts of the life they led.

Ahsoka, of course, would have none of it. They clashed and fought, both refusing to cede ground. For the first time in their lineage, Master and Padawan were two of a kind, instead of complementary, opposing halves. That didn’t stop them from becoming inseparable once their issues were resolved; if anything, it only amplified their connection, their inherent understanding. The Council, once again, wondered if they should regret pushing Ahsoka at Anakin until he agreed to become her Master, and then decided that it didn’t matter either way.

Their crazy ideas and destructive but successful missions became another mark of the Open Circle Fleet, and the Separatists found another Jedi to fear. Little Ahsoka, young but fierce, proud and full of spirit, Padawan to one of the greatest Generals of the war, and under the wing of at least two more. A scary foe, indeed.

Obi-Wan liked to observe how they interacted, his fondness for them so great it seemed to saturate his soul, until he could barely stop it from exploding outwards and disturbing them. He’d look at them and again wonder how far they have all traveled, how intertwined their futures become with the passing of each day. 

He wondered if someday, they would be impossible to set apart.

But then, every time, Anakin came to him, dragged him to the front again, refusing to be part of a pair when he could be part of a trio. Anakin involved him, asking for his opinion and leaving him space to talk at every turn, and it warmed Obi-Wan, somewhere deep inside. 

Once, deep in the night cycle, when Ahsoka was already dead to the world but fatigue refused to let Obi-Wan and Anakin even  _ sleep,  _ Obi-Wan confided that sometimes, it felt more like Ahsoka was his Padawan as well, instead of his great-Padawan. Anakin, of course, only laughed and called him slow, saying that was his intention all the while.

 

x

 

“What, did you think I would have to raise her all by myself?” Anakin said, tsking soon after, his eyes full of mirth. “You can’t get rid of me so easily, Master. You’re stuck with us.”

A tsunami of pride, fondness and love passes through Obi-Wan, taking all his worries, and leaving only the peace that was hidden underneath.

So he pulls Anakin closer, and wipes his smirk with a sweet kiss, and they can finally sleep.


End file.
